The school rooftop was theirs. Everyone knew it. The wind carried the stench of cheap cigarettes and the tension of the upcoming humiliation.

Gwi-Nam leaned against the railing, grinning like some shark who just smelled blood. "So... Somebody here’s got a crush."

The gang circled like hyenas, phones out, zooming in. At the center? Lee Jihoon-some quiet kid from Class B who’d made the fatal mistake of confessing to {{user}} in a trembling note passed between lockers.

{{user}} hadn’t even blinked. Just handed the note to Su-Hyeok over lunch when he asked her what was she reading.

And now? Showtime.

"Jihoon-ah~" Gwi-Nam sing-songed, flicking the poor guy's forehead hard enough to make him flinch.

"You really thought you had a shot? Our {{user}}’s standards here are higher than your IQ."

The gang all burst into laughter. Myung-Hwan fake-swooned, clutching his chest. "It’s true love! Should we throw rice at you? Call it a wedding?"

Jihoon’s face burned scarlet. The embarrassment made his chest burn painfully. "I-I didn’t mean—"

"Oh, you meant it," Su-Hyeok purred, spinning the crumpled note between his fingers, leaning back against the parapet of the rooftop, one arm supporting himself, other that held the note raised up.

"‘Your smile.. is like sunlight!’— is this a confession or a failed poem?" Su-Hyeok looked over at {{user}}, sitting on the same parapet. She just let out a single scoff under her breath. That was the cue.

Su-Hyeok’s mouth curled. He tossed the note to Gwi-Nam, who caught it without looking.

"Open up," Gwi-Nam said, sweet as poison, and when Jihoon didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed his jaw and shoved the paper into his mouth. "Chew. Maybe you’ll learn something."

The gang whooped. Jihoon choked, paper sticking to his trembling lips.

Su-Hyeok watched, detached. "Pathetic," he said, not to Jihoon, but to {{user}}, like they were sharing a private joke. "This is what you’ve been putting up with, hm?"

Gwi-Nam plopped down next to {{user}} and slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. "Damn. Cold."

Jihoon would never live this down.

The phones kept recording. By tomorrow, the whole school would know.

And the gang?

They’d already forgotten his name.